Altered Fate
by Winged Lady Colette
Summary: Mikoto showed up the night Tatara was shot, changing the course of the future. Tatara lives. Yaoi.
1. Saved

**Author's Note: Yeah, I did start another story. Sorry. But I really wanted to write this. There is very few, if any, I haven't actually read every single MikotoxTatara story that's multi-chapter so I wanted to write one myself and see how it goes. Let me know if you know of any, I think this couple is adorable. Anyway, let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

**Warnings: None really, maybe language.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing other than any OCs I end up making. :3**

**Word Count: 5,130**

_It's okay. It'll all work out in the end._

It was a mantra that Tatara told himself, and others, for as long as he could remember. Well, as long as he's known Mikoto and Kusanagi. For as long as Tatara has wanted to make people feel better around him. It has always come easily to him, even when he didn't want it to. He was a fervent believer in that. Perhaps he always thought that to himself. Perhaps it was something that helped him throughout his life.

So it seems well placed that those words would just keep spinning around in his head.

_It's okay._

The manacle laugh fills Tatara's ears. When the white haired man turned to him, it was a shock to see the gun, but before he had the opportunity to even react, he was bleeding. A bullet. He was shot. He blacks out after just a moment, it's the hard hit to the ground that wakes him back up. He can hear the white haired man talking. He didn't catch all of it, but he did catch "Colorless King" and no matter how much he wanted to focus in deeper into the monologue, gather as much detail as possible, all he can do is writhe on the floor in pain.

He must have blacked out again for a moment, before he finally regains consciousness and pulls out his phone and rolling onto his back, letting out a soft whimper of pain. His fingers move and the phone dials. Someone picks up and he's mumbling, staring up the sky. The stars stare back down at him, twinkling. Now _these _looked like flickering candle lights.

There is a pulsing pain in his gut, radiating throughout his entire body. Pulse. Pulse. Pulse. It's a burning sensation like fire, peeling his skin back bit by bit. He blinks rapidly and slowly moves a hand over the wound, feeling warm blood overflowing into his hand, he presses down as hard as he can bare to try and keep his blood in while he forces himself to focus on the stars. Anything to forget the pain. And true candle light stars they are. Almost as good as the city lights.

That's right! Anna. It's going to be her birthday soon. He won't be able to tell her happy birthday. And that's the true crime. Homra's princess deserves nothing short of the best.

Princess. Second only to the King.

Mikoto. He let Mikoto down. Tatara just has to hope that Mikoto will want to be strong enough to get passed this. Tatara has no doubt that he can, it's just a matter of if his lazy King is willing to put in the effort.

_It'll all work out in the end._

That makes a rue smile cross his face. Mikoto is going to be so mad at him. Tatara can just see the dangerous narrowing of his King and friend's eyes. Tatara has been on the receiving end of more of those than he cares to admit into his painfully short life. He was always doing thoughtless things and getting himself into messes that he can't get out of, Mikoto would probably say. Not with his voice, but with his eyes. Even when Tatara met him in middle school, high school Mikoto had an annoyed, if not an angry look on his face constantly.

But over the years, his looks have softened. At least a bit. But the muscles remember and sometimes it easily falls into that scowl. Tatara doesn't even realize he's crying until after he hears the sound of someone calling out his name. It's almost impossible to be able to see through the tears. He blinks slowly and the tears pool up and spill over the sides of his eyes, trailing down into his hair.

Yata's face comes into view. Even in the dark his eyes are wide and filling with tears. He can see Izumo too, looking around anxiously. Yata carefully pulls Tatara into his arms, holding onto him tightly. Both of them have clouds of breath forming around them. Especially Yata, who probably ran a good distance here, or kicked his skateboarding butt into gear.

"Tatara!" Yata says, eyebrows pulled together. "Who did this to you?" Tatara opens his mouth and blood spills over, he makes noises he hopes are not senseless noises. Yata's lower lip trembles.

"Don't make him speak!" Izumo says sharply, glancing over at them, his eyes fall onto the bleeding Homra member for a split second before he looks away again, seemingly unable to keep eye contact. "Come on, let's get him out of here."

Tatara swallows thickly as the cold begins to settle in around him. He can feel the energy pouring out of him. Or maybe it's just his blood. It's getting harder to tell if the blur in his vision is because of the tears or blood loss.

"It's okay. It'll all work out in the end..." Tatara mumbles, coughing weakly and feeling pain in his gut at the action. Which then brings about fresh tears. But he forces a smile onto his face and reaches out to touch Yata's cheek. He feels the darkness swallowing him up. But right before it does, he hears footsteps approaching.

Tatara, or at least a minute part of him, wanted to be mad, upset even, at this turn of events. But he couldn't. He was too tired to be mad about how his life is ending up. What he does have the strength to be mad about is that he won't be able to spend more time with the people in Homra. Dewa, Shohei, Eric, Izumo, Kamamoto, Chitose, Fujishima, Bando, Anna, and Mikoto.

He would give anything at this moment to be able to spend more time with those wonderful people. Every time he closes his eyes, all he can do is see their faces behind his eye lids and hear those words. But it doesn't sound as kind and hopeful as Tatara always tried to make it sound. It sounds, almost mockingly. Like the words were coming back, as if tauntingly.

"Give him to me." A voice above him orders and he feels Yata's grip on him shift. Another pair of arms wrap around him and lift him up, the bending at the waist brings shooting pain zipping though his entire body all the way to the ends of his fingers and toes. He throws his head back and cries out in pain.

"Be gentler!" Izumo's voice snaps, getting closer. "Yata, your jacket, press it against the wound, now."

"U-Uh, right!" Yata exclaims, his voice cracking slightly. The sound of clothes shuffling and then pain again on his burning abdomen.

Tatara cries out again, trying to push away the painful pressure but he doesn't have the strength. With the energy seeping out of him, it's taking the warmth with it, but Tatara was so out of it, he didn't even notice until the warmth started to lay over every inch of his body like a toasty blanket over him. This makes the dainty long haired man relax a bit, making it easier to fall into the blackness.

* * *

><p>The darkness that was like syrup swallowed him up, but while he was beneath the surface, it turns into smooth smoke that flutters around him. He moves his hands around, feeling nothing but cool smoke. Off in the distance, there is the light sound of music. A smooth sound that reminds Tatara, almost painfully, of a very wonderful place, both in the real world and in his heart.<p>

When he opens his eyes, he's sitting at the bar in Homra. The jukebox is playing softly behind him. Tatara runs his dingers along the smooth bar that Izumo loves so much. There is seemingly no one in the bar with him. His eyes roam the wall in front of him filled with a wide variety of alcohol. Everything was exactly as he remembers it. He turns to look out the front door to lead into the bar at the wall of windows and the light pouring into it. It's got to be about high noon. Tatara doesn't know how long he sits there, just admiring the space around him.

He's spent the better part of almost ten years sitting at this bar, looking around this room, while the members of the Red Clan flew into the bar, caused havoc, and then went flying out. There were a lot of wonderful moments and less than pleasing moments. This place is more home to Tatara than any other before it. There is such personality in the bar.

A great portion of it is purely Izumo, little touches that is so him. But the rest of it is made up of the rest of Homra's family. Like the jukebox that Tatara got, or the spare skateboard that Yata leaves behind in case something happens to his. The stray hair ribbon here or there that Anna would pull from her hair and tie around things in the bar - a game that she plays with Kamamoto, see how many he can find and how long they are there. A calendar pinned to the wall by Chitose who insisted on it being there so that no one would forget special occasions, birthdays, holidays, etc.

So much more. A true place to live. A true home. Izumo owned the bar, but Mikoto and Anna lived there mostly. Izumo lives there now more than he used to because of Mikoto and Anna. Tatara spends a lot of time there too, but does own an apartment not that far. They make decent money as Homra, both from the bar and bounty hunting.

Mikoto splits the bounty evenly amongst everyone that participates. His portion goes to Izumo, because the young King practically lived off of his friend. Izumo paid for everything for him. He housed him, fed him, and spent a fortune on the cigarettes that they share. Everyone else spends money here and there on both their beloved King and lovely Princess.

No one seems to mind, it's because of their King that they are all together. And they, because of Mikoto and Homra, have found a new family in each other. A lot of them have difficult childhoods or bad home lives currently, and find solitude in the family that they have away from home. There is arguments, there is a clash of personalities, but anyone here would fight tooth and nail to protect each other and their home here.

Tatara reaches up and runs a hand through his long, silky light brown hair, tugging at the ends a bit, laying his head down on his arm and closes his eyes. The room smells of tobacco, cologne and alcohol. It's a nice, relaxing smell, one he's grown used to over the years.

Tatara spends a lot of time there, walking around and reliving old memories. When he first started coming to Homra, regularly. When Mikoto became a real King. When he started meeting his future clansmen. Every moment played through this place like a movie on the big screen. He felt a whole slew of emotions; happy, sad, annoyed, excited, melancholy - a lot of melancholy - but mostly pride.

This wasn't just a bar. It was a home and a storybook. It told the lives of the Red Clan under Mikoto's rule. And it will continue to, hopefully long after Tatara is gone. At least, if Tatara has his way. He's always believed in Mikoto, it's just up to Mikoto to continue to believe in himself.

Tatara finally stands up. He had returned to his seat at the bar and laid his head down. He spent so much time just remembering, just seeing all the reasons he wanted to live just a little bit longer but this time in-between must come to an end eventually. He takes one more longing look around the bar before turning around and turning toward the front door. It's so bright out there. Even though he knows he's got to be there for a long time, it's still so bright out. Could this be the actual 'light' that is always described when someone dies and they have to go into the light to move on? Probably.

One of his biggest regrets is that he died so close to, if not on, Anna's birthday. The little princess of Homra, already had too many heart breaks for Anna's birthday to become just another day that everyone quietly lets pass them by with their eyes closed and willing it away. Tatara can only hope and pray that this doesn't become the case. In Tatara's opinion, he's most thankful for Anna's birthday. It's because of that, a reminder every single year, that their little princess was born. That is a day worth celebrating, every year.

Tatara walks over to the door and lays his hand on the handle before looking over his shoulder at the bar. In his mind's eye, he can see the furniture all pushed to the side and all of the members of Homra and sitting around, playing card games on the floor. They played old maid and go fish with Anna and then poker after she went to bed. On good days, both Mikoto and Izumo would join in. Most of the time they would sit out and just watch. Tatara's been told that he has both a really good and really bad poker face, depending on the day.

The memories make him smile softly. It makes his chest tighten and his heart yearn for those moments again. He didn't want those moments to end. He didn't want to say goodbye to that life. He feels like he's barely lived it. He contemplates going back to the bar and sitting, spending more times relishing in the precious memories he watched over and over on repeat for what feels like forever, only to move on to another and mimic the process.

But there is a nagging feeling, deep within his gut. He has to go now. He can't stay here any longer. He closes his eyes and envisions the wonderful people in his life. The men in Homra that have become like brothers. Anna, the little stoic, ice princess. Izumo, the strict but fair second in command. And Mikoto, the lazy, bored King that cares so much about protecting those important to him. They all come so easily to his mind and he feels that nagging tug in his chest, making him miss those beautiful imperfect people.

Finally, Tatara opens his eyes and turns back to the door, letting out a whoosh of breath before turning the knob and opening it. The light beyond is so bright it's blinding. But as cliché as it is, Tatara balls his hands into fists, lifts his chin, closes his eyes, unable to look at the world beyond without hurting his eyes and takes a step into the bright light.

* * *

><p>The first thing Tatara feels is pain. It's strange at first. Shouldn't he be dead? Or, is, while in death, he suppose to live out the rest of eternity in pain from the wound that killed him. Slowly, very slowly, Tatara opens his eyes to see a darkened room around him. He can see darkened out shapes around the room. The only light in the room is the moon filtering in from the window between the two thin white curtains. No, there is a bit more light. Next to him, little lights on machines.<p>

And he's not alone either. There is two other light breathing patterns in the room with him. The shadows of one, to his left, in a chair within arms reach of Tatara, and the other is to his right, on the couch. Tatara can see his jean pant legs, but the rest of his is obscured in shadows. Tatara turns back to the one he can't see at all and squints his eyes.

He moves slightly but whimpers softly as pain burns like lava in his gut and he settles back into the bed, taking a moment to slow down his pain-filled little gasps before he reached out with his left hand, summoning up his aura. It's not as intense or powerful as any of the others in Homra. But it manages to summon up enough power to make some light and slowly moves it closer to the figure next to him.

Inching closer and closer until the shadow shifts and something hot wraps around his wrist holding it in place. Tatara lets out a noise of surprise, straightening up slightly despite the pain, and blinks rapidly.

The red glow that surrounds his hand outlines the hand holding his wrist, moving up the arm, then shoulder and slowly works it's way over the entirety of the man's body, even making his eyes glow red. Tatara recognizes him right away and the tenseness of his body relaxes and he just stares into the fiery red that is just so Mikoto. It flutters around him, darkened and hotter than usual due to his obvious anger.

"You're finally awake," says the voice to Tatara's right. He glances over to see the person, now obviously a man, standing up and walking passed the bed to the little hall that leads to the hallway with the door to the bathroom and the one that leaves the room to turn on the lights. Tatara squeezes his eyes closed at the initial brightness before slowly opening it and letting his eyes take a moment to adjust.

The other man steps into view and it's Izumo. His hair and clothes are all messed up from sleeping and his eyes are squinting a bit from the light as well. He straightens out his clothes and runs a hand through his hair a few times to try and tame it. Tatara turns his head toward Mikoto again to see both of their aura's dying down.

He smiles, hoping that it can out cheerful and stronger than he thinks it is. But judging by the further narrowing of Mikoto's eyes, it probably doesn't.

"Hey, King," Tatara says softly.

Mikoto's facial expressions don't change, but his hand, easily wrapped around Tatara's wrist, tightens threateningly. His eyes are like melted gold stare at him, less than pleased. "Do you have any idea how stupid you are?"

Tatara feels his eyebrows twitch slightly and his smile, which for some reason is hard to hold, falters until it disappears completely. He can feel Mikoto's anger through the heat of his hand and the red flashes in his eyes. He opens his mouth, probably trying to come up with something witty or charming to say, but nothing comes to him and he just stares at Mikoto.

Finally, he says, "I'm sorry, King. Wh-" he roughly clears his throat. "What happened...? I thought..." _I thought I was dead, _Tatara didn't say but that doesn't mean that the words didn't hang in the air between them and that only seems to draw more of Mikoto's ire.

But it's Izumo, who speaks, stepping up next to Mikoto and laying a hand on his shoulder. The action seems intentional, probably to draw their hot blooded King back from the dark corners of his mind. "Mikoto, Tatara's hand is turning purple."

As soon as the words leave him and are processed by Mikoto, his eyes flicker down to see that, yes, he was squeezing hard enough to cut off circulation to Tatara's left hand and releases it as if it burned him. He roughly stuffs his hands into his pocket and stands up, dislodging Izumo's hand and walking around the bed to the window to look out it.

"Tatara," Izumo says, moving to sit in Mikoto's no longer occupied chair, crossing his legs to give the bed ridden young man a stern look. Mentally recalling the first time he saw Tatara in the hospital. He was beaten up by seniors. They broke his leg, arm and gave him numerous cuts and bruises. He was a middle schooler at the time. Sure, he was just a brat that wouldn't leave Mikoto alone, at first, but after that day, he became part of their friend... group? Izumo had to guess that now that there was three of them, they could be a group. But now, here he was, hospitalized once again.

Tatara slowly rubs his hands together, trying to get the blood to flow back to his hand properly. It kind of hurts and it makes his heart pound. He feels exhausted and his head feels a little light. He leans back into the bed a bit more, looking at Izumo with slightly hooded eyes. "Izumo?"

"Tell us what happened," Izumo instructs, brown eyes locked onto him.

Tatara lifts a hand to run through his hair, but all he can manage to do is tug at the bottom of his light brown hair, noting how gross it feels and wanting nothing more than to take a shower and wash the night away from him.

"I just went up to the roof and film the city lights, the same roof that we went to that one time, King. Remember?" Tatara looks over at the red haired man, still staring out the window, hands still deep into his pockets. He grunts in response, but says nothing so Tatara looks back over at Izumo, blinking tiredly. "I got up there and someone was already looking out over the view. A man... no," Tatara's eyebrows pull together. "He couldn't have been more than a teenager. Just a boy. Maybe sixteen or seventeen."

In Tatara's mind's eye, he can see the figure, hunched over the railing, laughing hysterically at nothing, his shoulders shaking. He runs a hand through his hair, that glowed in the moonlight, before turning around to face Tatara. Something glinted in the light. The young man had a crooked, cruel smile on his lips - just thinking about it now makes Tatara feel sick and want to sink into the ground and never come out again - and then... boom. Instant pain in his stomach.

Tatara has been beaten up a lot in his life. Once it landed him in the hospital, but never had he ever felt pain quite like this. It was one thing to walk - or limp - away from a battle with broken limbs and have to be bed ridden for a while. But as Tatara lay there, bleeding out, all alone, he knew for certain he was going to die. He was going to die and no one would be there by his side.

Shot. Tatara's been shot. He's been shot at before. But this time he was really shot. And it should have killed him.

The thought forms a lump in his throat and his throat just closes around it, making it hard to breath or really focus on anything other than that. He reaches a hand up and wraps it around his throat, then, abruptly, he throws the covers away, seeing the hospital gown and blue scrubs beneath, he roughly pulls up the gown. He can see Izumo stand up in his peripheral.

"Oi! Be careful with yourself!" the bartender snaps.

Tatara doesn't hear, or at least register what the man was saying, as he pulled the gown up to reveal the once smooth, unblemished - which is surprising with how many times he's been kicked in the stomach or chest - skin there is now wrapped up in crisp medical tape. His skin almost appears to be translucent and all the blood rushing through his body because of adrenaline makes his feel sick. And cold. So very cold.

He runs his hand over the bandages when he touches the spot that brings him pain and he grits his teeth, laying his head back to stare at the ceiling. That could have been it. He could have died. He never gave a lot of thought to how he was going to die, but he certainly didn't think it would happen like that, so soon into his life.

But he can't think about that. He didn't think he was strong enough to focus on that. It brought out a pulsing pain to his stomach. He forces the thoughts deep into the back of his mind. He compress those thoughts into as small of a box as he can mentally make it and set it aside for later. He doesn't have the energy to fully analyze the situation right now. His stomach hurts, head hurts, throat hurts and he feels like he hasn't slept in two days. He just has to take his mind off of the pain and onto something else. Like... like... where was he?

Hospital. Yes, he runs his hand over the bandages again. He was in the hospital. Yata and Izumo must have gotten him here. No, there was someone else there at the end. That voice...

_"Give him to me." _That was Mikoto's voice. It was Mikoto who was there at the end, after Tatara had already closed his eyes and began to pass out. He didn't see him, but he was there.

"King..." Tatara lowers his head to look over at the golden eyed man now staring back at him, no longer angry, now just indifferent.

"You nearly bled out in my arms," Mikoto says, narrowing his eyes. "I cauterized the wound. It was the only thing that kept you alive long enough to get to the hospital."

Izumo flops back onto the chair, an annoyed look on his face. "Yeah, you nearly bled out in my car, moron. You should be more defensive. More wary of the people around you." The look didn't last long, falling into a look of worry. "Are you okay, Tatara? I mean... you almost..." he sighs, shaking his long blond haired head. He finally looks back at Tatara. "How do you feel?"

Tatara shakes his head, forcing a weak smile. "I'll be fine, thanks to the King. I'm just... shaken, is all."

Mikoto walks over to him and sits down on the bed, right by Tatara's stomach, not minding the slight incline of the bed for Tatara's sake. He scratches the back of his head, messing up his already messy red hair. He doesn't say anything for a long time, lost in his thoughts. Izumo and Tatara just stare at the back of the form fitting white t-shirt that the red King is usually found wearing. It fits like a second skin and moves when he does, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees.

Tatara reaches forward, putting a hand on Mikoto's forearm. As soon as his skin touches his King's he pulls back, burned. Mikoto seems surprised too. He turns toward Tatara and reaches out to take the retreating hand, holding onto it tightly. Tatara almost wanted to pull away from Mikoto's scorching hot hands, but this is his King. There's no need to pull away.

The long fair haired young man, forced himself to relax and focus on Mikoto's face. It was twisted into a look of confusion, and then anger. He turns his head away but keeps hold of Tatara's hand.

"You're freezing," Mikoto says gruffly, eyebrows pulled together, annoyed

Freezing? Yes. He was shaking pretty bad.

With his free hand, he pulled the thin gown down and then the covers up to the middle of his chest, burying one hand beneath it on his stomach for warmth. A moment later, the burning heat dims a bit but spreads over his entire body. At first, it hurts. Not unbearably so, but enough to make him close one eye and grimace. But after a moment, it stops hurting and becomes soothing.

"The date..." Tatara finally says after a few minutes of silence. Everyone just looking around the room at everything but each other. "Anna's birthday..."

"It's already passed," Izumo says, letting out a long sigh. "You've been in here for three days. But don't worry," Izumo smiles. "Our little princess insisted on waiting until you woke up before celebrating."

A small, genuine, but tired smile crosses Tatara face. "She didn't have to do that," he murmurs.

"That's what we told her you'd say," the bartender laughs. "I'll call them all up in the morning. Better late than never, right? I'm sure Anna would agree to it."

"Where is she now...?" the hobbyist asks, eyelids growing heavy from a mixture of previous exhaustion and the warmth offered kindly by his King and friend. "Not home alone... right?"

Mikoto snorts and Tatara can practically see both of his two oldest friends rolling their eyes.

"No," Izumo says, indignant, "what do you think we are? Incompetent? She's spending the night with Yata and his mother." A short laugh escapes him. "She thinks Anna's cute as a button. Anna's a little put off, but you know her. She won't complain if Mikoto asks her to do anything."

Tatara's miles widens a fraction of an inch, before his eyes finally slip closed. "That... that's good. I was worried there for a moment."

Another snort from their illustrious King. "We'll talk later," he orders, eyes narrowed at nothing in particular. "Sleep, now."

"Okay..." Tatara says softly, smile widening just a bit more. "But only if you do something for me in return." Mikoto tilts his head slightly toward Tatara to show he's listening. Just a little more upturn to that smile. "Can you scratch my foot? It's itchy and I can't really move to scratch it... with my stomach all wrapped up." He lets out a tired, breathy laugh.

Mikoto blinks once, twice, thrice, before growling. He ruffles Tatara's head, a little rougher than necessary before gruffly ordering him to sleep once more. And it was an order from his King, who was he to disobey?

And then Tatara slept. Let the horrors of tomorrow be dealt with tomorrow.


	2. Bring Homra

**Author's Note: So there is a bit of buzz for this story. I think I'll put up the next chapter and see what happens. Thanks so much for all your support thus far. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!**

**Warnings: None really, maybe language.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing other than any OCs I end up making. :3**

**Word Count: 5,286**

Tatara opens his eyes to look around the empty hospital room, able to make out more of it now that he's awake. Mikoto and Izumo are gone and after a minute of silence, he pushes himself up slowly in his bed, cringing in pain from both the soreness of his back at laying in the uncomfortable bed for so long and the hot, dull pain in his gut from his bullet wound. He holds his hand over his wound, clenching his teeth at the dulling pain, before relaxing again, looking around the empty room.

It's nice, considering Tatara didn't have any insurance and Homra wasn't exactly rolling in cash. He runs his hand through his hair, cringing again when he feels the grime in his hair. He needs a shower, like really bad. He pulls the covers out from around him and scoots to the edge of the of the bed. Looking at the machines next to him and the wires attached to the crook of his right elbow. He doesn't know what any of them are doing, but he wants to get out of them immediately.

He wants to shower and he wants to go back to Homra and sleep on the couch. He runs a hand up his arm, looking around the room, wishing that Izumo and Mikoto weren't... where ever they were right now. His phone has to be around here somewhere. Maybe he can call up Kamamoto and Yata and they can help break him out of here and they can go home and have Anna's birthday party.

He squints out the window to see that it's probably getting later into the morning. Probably nine or ten o'clock in the morning. Mikoto and Izumo were both gone and Tatara doesn't know what they could be doing or where could they have gone.

"Knock knock," a female voice behind him says and the sound of footsteps walking into the room. It's a nurse in light green scrubs, she falters when she sees that Tatara is sitting up. "Oh no, Mr. Totsuka, don't be sitting up right now."

Tatara waves his hand around dismissively. "I'm okay. I just need a shower."

"Oh no, you can't be doing that," she says walking over to him and putting a small pale hand onto his shoulder. "You were shot a few days ago, you need to rest."

Tatara shakes his head. "No, I really need a shower. I'm currently repulsive to be around, and I need to be getting home."

The nurse started shaking her head too as soon as Tatara started talking. "No can do. You still have to rest. You aren't fully healed. If you want to get cleaned up we can give you a sponge bath."

Tatara looks up at her, taking in her dark brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and big dark brown eyes. He sighs quietly and takes her hand in his and gives her a soft, charming smile. "Thanks, but there is no way I'm going to take a sponge bath." She opens her mouth to protest but he continues, "And those two men that were with me last night, the redhead and the blond? Where are they?"

The nurse adapts a look that Tatara recognizes as the look people usually get when they think about his intimidating King. A small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth when he thinks about Mikoto standing in the background as Izumo talks with the doctors at how he's doing. Either looking away or staring holes right through the man. Regardless he knows that Mikoto makes people one of two things: uncomfortable or interested.

"Um, they are outside... smoking," she says slowly, eyes adapting a far away look before she shakes herself from it and looks down at Tatara, probably trying to figure out how Mikoto fit in with both Izumo and Tatara. Izumo was really suave and cool, Tatara is very dainty and charming, and Mikoto is lazy and scary. They were a very odd trio. She's in for a surprise when the rest of Homra show up.

"I see," Tatara says. "Now, Miss...?"

"Ayona," the nurse says.

"Can I please go take a shower. Please?" Tatara looks up at her with big, doe eyes. "I'll be on my best behavior. Trust me. It's either a shower here or a shower at home. Pick your poison."

She looks hesitant. "You really should just take a sponge bath, it's the safest for someone in your position. I really must insist."

"And I must continue to decline," Tatara says, smiling charmingly up at her. "Please take these things out of me." He holds his arm up with the wires attached. "I'm okay now."

Ayona shakes her head again, looking very uncomfortable. "One of that is for dehydration, which we will eventually have to take out, but the other one is for your morphine and you need that."

Tatara looks down at the two tubes in his arms and then looks over at the machines, wondering if he could tell the difference if he looked hard enough but after a full minute of silence, he looks back over at Ayona. "A really fast one. I'll let you do all the preppy things you need to for me before, but I want to be able to shower in peace."

"And your clothes?" Ayona asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, I was going to keep them on, but maybe that's a bad idea, you think?" He grins up at her playfully.

The corners of her lips quirk up a bit. "No, I mean, you could rip your stitches trying to remove them."

Tatara considers for a moment. "Okay..." he squints his eyes at the clear blue sky out the window passed his nurse. "Am I wearing underwear beneath these scrubs? At this point I think you would know better than me."

Ayona's face turns a bright red. "I don't know!" She says embarrassed and trying to hold back a smile. "Why does that matter?"

"Because I could shimmy out of them," he says, pleased. "I'm skinny enough."

Ayona rolls her eyes, but turns away a bit to hide her obvious embarrassment. Finally she turns back to him after about a minute of silent consideration and asks, "Can I talk with some of the other nurses? It won't be long, I promise."

Tatara nods. "I just need to shower soon. I'm sure I'll have guests over soon enough and I'm disgusting."

The nurse nods too, slipping from the room, giving Tatara a chance to really look at himself and he's appalled at just how pale he is. He honestly lost a lot more blood than he thought. Even now he's still a little lightheaded. He wiggles his toes and they all obey and he cringes a bit when they touch the cold time floor. He holds himself rigidly around the torso, trying his hardest to not aggravate his wound anymore than he already has. As soon as he showers, he'll rest up, he promises himself, just let him wash up.

Every time Tatara closes his eyes, he can see the slightly darkened out figure of the man that shot him. Hunched over, laughing. Tatara couldn't imagine what he could have been laughing at. He was just staring out over the view of the city, laughing hysterically as if someone had said a really funny joke, but there was no one there but him and Tatara.

Hearing the laugh echoing in his ears is enough to make Tatara shiver a bit, feeling his skin crawl. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to force the sickening feeling tickling him beneath the skin. He opens his eyes and stares at the bright blue sky beyond, forcing the images away for now. Right as he does, he hears the doors open behind him and the nurse walks back in, telling Tatara can take his shower and if he wants to be alone, then he can, but she has to stay close while he's in there to make sure he's okay.

Tatara agrees to this. Lets her remove the wires in his arms and wrap up his torso in some saran wrap to keep the water from getting the bandages wet and ultimately the stitches beneath that's basically the only thing holding him together. After she finishes, Tatara doesn't think he can bed his torso in any way, shape of form, even if he wanted to.

Thankfully, Mikoto and Izumo had yet to return, so they didn't see Ayona helping him out of his paper thin hospital gown and getting the shower ready. It was nothing big or spectacular, just an all white tub with chrome showerhead. She turns the shower on and turns it onto warm for Tatara before reluctantly looking between Tatara and the door, still looking uncomfortable.

"Thanks," Tatara says, fighting the urge to reach up and run his hand through dirty light brown locks. "I think I've got it from here."

Ayona nods, backing up toward the door slowly, as if she's expecting Tatara to just suddenly change his mind and ask her to stay but that's not going to happen. Tatara needs a few moments just for himself. Clean the horrible experience from his skin and start forgetting about it permanently. That, and if Anna and the rest of Homra are going to be coming over today, there is no way he's going to be around them all gross.

"Okay," Ayona says, eyebrows pulled together nervously. "I'll be right out there... just call me if you need anything. Anything at all."

"Thanks again," Tatara says, half turning away before a thought occurs to him. "Oh, and Ayona-san?"

Her head snaps back over in Tatara's direction, a hopeful look in her eyes. "Yes?"

"Don't be afraid of Mikoto when he returns, he's not as scary as he appears to be, okay?" He smiles, painstakingly aware that it lacks the same charm and sweetness that he used to have a week ago, but he just can't seem to muster it up like he was once able to.

Ayona blinks, brown eyes wide in confusion, before she realized who he was referring to and she paled a bit, obviously not believing him. She nods slowly, face steadily draining of color as she heads out and closes the door behind her. Tatara waits for the distinct click of the door closing all the way before he finally shimmies out of his thin scrubs, wishing that it wasn't so cold. Even with steam steadily filling the room now that the heat is being contained, it's still so cold his whole body is covered in gooseflesh.

Once he steps under the warm spray of water, shivering slightly before his body begins to warm up with the water and sighs in relief. He starts cleaning his hair, making note of the tiny, generic shampoo bottles. He cleans his hair as thoroughly as he can, ignoring the throbbing pain in his gut. It feels so nice to finally clean his hair and body. It's weird to run his hands over his body and feel his hands run over the plastic around his stomach. He has to physically restrain himself from picking at the clear barrier protecting his bandages.

A good portion of his time is spend just sitting under the spray with his eyes closed, trying to imagine that by cleaning his body, he is somehow washing away the horrible near-death experience that he just went through a few days ago and while he knows that's not what's happening, it still makes him feel better. At least for now.

But alas, nothing good can last forever as Tatara has to get out of the shower for the steam and heat is quickly making him light headed. Luckily, sometime while he was out cold, someone, and Tatara's willing to bet it was Izumo, brought some clothes for him. Pajamas and other toiletries. That a few other things that Tatara will have to really dig through when he's got some free time.

He turns the shower off and steps out, pausing for a moment to try and steady himself before grabbing his new clothes, long black pajama pants that he has to fold around his hips so he's not walking around on the bottoms of his pants. And a big plain white tee-shirt. Once he's all dressed he dries his hair and nudges all the dirty laundry into a pile in the corner of the room to make it easier for whoever has to clean up after him. He brushes his teeth, silently thanking Izumo once again, and puts on some deodorant, running his fingers through his hair a few times as a poor substitute for a comb before stepping out of the bathroom and into the cold hospital room, immediately shivering.

"So, how's he doing, Ayona-san?" Izumo asks, having finally returned from his smoke break. It couldn't have been too long ago, Tatara didn't even stay in the shower long enough for his hands to really prune at all.

"Good, I think," Ayona says, sounding slightly nervous. Tatara is willing to bet that Mikoto is in the room. "He's very lively."

"I should hope so," Izumo says, "he wouldn't be Tatara if he wasn't."

Tatara steps around the corner tot he room to see Izumo sitting on the couch and Mikoto is sitting in the chair next to the bed and Ayona is standing by the television across from the bed about three feet from the couch. Her arms are wrapped around herself and she's shifting slightly, nervously. She seems relaxed enough around Izumo, but every time she glances over at Mikoto and sees his emotionless, lazy eyes staring back at her, she shifts uncomfortably.

"I told you, Ayona-san," Tatara says, walking over to the bed feeling exhausted. He sits down slowly, making sure not to aggravate his gut. "There's no need to be nervous. Mikoto is like a lion, fierce in appearance but he's actually very lazy and would rather lounge around doing nothing." He smiles over at his King when the golden eyed man grunts at him. "Sorry, King."

Mikoto grunts again, but says nothing while Ayona goes to work reattaching the wires and heart monitor.

"How are you feeling, Totsuka-san?" Ayona asks, avoiding any chance of locking eyes with Mikoto, regardless of Tatara's words. "How's the pain?"

"Manageable," Tatara says, laying back into the bed hoping that his head is going to be done spinning soon. He closes his eyes. "Are we going to take the plastic off of my stomach?"

Ayona hums in affirmation and lifts his shirt, pulling at the plastic end at his side and slowly unraveling it. Tatara has to sit up so that he didn't have to hover over the bed and strain his stomach any more than it already has today. He finally settles back down when she nods and leans back again, closing his eyes.

"Okay, the bandages still look good so we'll keep them on for now, but I'll need to change them later on today, alright?" Ayona asks, marking something on Tatara's chart that was placed on the arm of the couch closest to the television.

Tatara nods, pulling the covers up over his lap. He tries to relax back into the uncomfortable bed. At this moment, he wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch in Izumo's bar.

"Alright, call me if you need anything," Ayona says, shuffling out of the room quickly. After she shuts the door behind her, there is a long moment of silence. Tatara sinks into the bed a bit.

"How are you feeling?" Izumo asks, adjusting a bit on the couch that he's probably been living in for the past few days. The thought immediately makes Tatara feel bad. Homra is Izumo's life and it probably pains him being away from it for as long as he has been.

"I'm okay," Tatara says, opening his eyes to look over at the blond man on the couch. "When is the others coming over?"

Izumo's eyebrows raise over the top of his usual sunglasses. "Are you sure you're feeling up to it, Tatara? There's no need to rush. I mean, yeah, everyone is anxious to see you but they can wait a few more days if they need to. Don't push yourself."

Tatara smiles kindly. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I actually really want to see them. And I want to celebrate Anna's birthday. I really do. I..." _Almost didn't get the chance to, _Tatara didn't say, but the words floated around the room menacingly. A reminder to just how close Tatara was from not being here today. The three men just sat there in silence for about a minute, letting those words sink in.

Finally, Izumo stands up, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Alright, then. I'll give the gang a call, see who's ready to come up here. I'll head back to the bar to pick up my gift for Anna, where's yours?"

Tatara smiles. "It's actually in the coffee cup back in the kitchen. That one that everyone got for Mikoto that he never uses."

"The red and black one?" Izumo asks. Tatara nods and Izumo rolls his eyes. "I bet Mikoto forgot that that was even for him." The two both turn their attention to their lazy King, who was looking between them, but obviously not listening to a word either said.

"Hm?" he hums, wondering why the blond and brunet were both staring at him. Tatara smiles kindly and Izumo shakes his head. Mikoto tilts his head ever so slightly, the two long red strands in front of his face fall to the side at the movement. "What?"

"Never mind," Izumo says dismissively. "I'm going to head back to the bar and pick up a few things. Do you want anything, Mikoto?" The Red King shakes his head mutely. Izumo nods and looks over at Tatara. "Anything else you want picked up?"

Tatara shakes his head. "Not really. At least not now. Maybe some movies or something to kill time while I'm here. Oh, and my guitar. Please," he says sweetly, smiling. "I don't know how long I'm going to be in here."

Izumo waves his concern away. "So long as you're getting better, who cares?" He shrugs his shoulders and pulls his jacket on before heading for the door. "Alright, I'll be back. Mikoto, don't scare the hospital staff while I'm gone."

Mikoto narrows his eyes slightly but says nothing, watching Izumo leave.

"King," Tatara says, turning his head over to his slouching friend.

Mikoto looks over at him, raising an eyebrow. "...yeah?"

Tatara rests his head back against the thin pillows, staring into his King's eyes. "You can go with him if you want. It's got to be a lot more interesting than sitting around here with me. Have you even gone home since I got here?"

Mikoto nods. "I couldn't just walk around all bloody."

Tatara squints a bit at his King. "Okay then. Point taken. But seriously, it's okay. If you want to go stretch your legs or something, I don't mind."

Mikoto stares at him for a long, drawn out moment. "Do you want me to leave?" He finally asks.

"No!" Tatara says, sitting up a bit. "No, I don't... I just... this can't be interesting, King. I just want to make sure you're not wasting your time... I don't know." He gestures around the room. Mikoto follows the motion with his eyes for a few seconds before returning his steady, lazy gaze back to Tatara, waiting for him to elaborate. Tatara sighs, leaning back into the bed. "Never mind, King, never mind."

Mikoto nods, leaning back into his chair, propping up his right elbow on the arm of the chair and resting his chin on his curled fist, looking much like a King sitting on his throne even in this hospital room. Tatara smiles faintly, admiring his King. Ever since Tatara first saw Mikoto, he knew that there was something about the older boy that was special. Did he know about Mikoto being an actual King? No, but he wasn't all that surprised when it happened. It just seemed to fit the perpetually angry red head.

He attracted people to his side whether he wanted to or not and he knew how to make them loyal to him, whether he intended to or not. There was just something about him that attracted Tatara right away. And it was a great honor to be accepted by the young man he had grown to greatly admire. And here they are, eight years later and the young man no one thought would amount to anything, except for Tatara, naturally, was a King of a clan and sitting in this hospital room watching over him like a red headed guardian.

"King," Tatara says softly, pulling the covers up a little bit more to try and warm him up.

"Yeah?" Mikoto asks, still leaning against his fist.

"Thank you for being here. I really appreciate it," Tatara says. "And for saving me too. If it wasn't for you..."

Mikoto closes his eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line for a second before he relaxes and opens his eyes again. "You are too reckless with your life, Tatara. You need to stop being so thoughtless. I'm not going to always be there." As soon as the words left his lips, his eyes narrow dangerously, as if he hadn't thought this all the way through.

Tatara nods, running his hands up and down his arms a bit, still cold. "I know. I'm sorry."

Mikoto sighs, glancing past Tatara to the window. "Forget it."

A pause, then, "Are you mad, King?"

"Yes."

Tatara blinks very slowly, watching the red head closely. "At me?"

"Yes."

Tatara smiles a bit, watching as Mikoto blinks slowly, lazily even. That's a look he's seem many times before and it brings a sense of happiness at the normality of it all. "Do you want to take a nap, King?" He can't help but ask with a slight teasing tone to his voice.

A pause, thoughtful consideration crosses the Red King's face before he nods. "Yes."

Tatara scoots to the far side of the bed. "Come on. I hope Anna doesn't mind if I borrow your warmth. Yes, I do have an ulterior motive." He laughs. Mikoto tilts his head a bit more as if he didn't understand right away before he pushes himself to his feet and walks over to the bed, reaching out and touching Tatara;s cheek. As per usual, the King's touch is a fiery one but it feels nice to Tatara.

After a moment of debate, Mikoto accepted the offer and squeezes into the small space. Tatara sits up and waits for Mikoto to find a comfortable spot before slowly lowering himself to rest his head by the King's shoulder, curled slightly on his side. The bed is small enough for them to be touching, like Tatara's knees are settled on top of Mikoto's and the length of Mikoto's right arm is brushing against Tatara's two hands and forearms. Mikoto's hands are settled on his stomach and he shifts a bit, trying to find a nice place to relax in before he stops moving.

Immediately Tatara is rewarded from the closeness of his King by the warmth spreading around him as Mikoto's aura encompasses himself and Tatara. The slightly shivering young man begins to relax, his eyes getting heavy and they droop closed. Mikoto smelled a mixture of tobacco, shampoo and whatever deodorant he was wearing. It was nice. It was familiar.

Tatara doesn't know if Mikoto was actually interested in taking a nap and the couch was just not comfortable enough for the lazy king, or if he was still in a high enough degree of protective lion mode that the closeness to one of his hurt pride members was enough to sooth the protective part of him, Tatara didn't known. But either way, it was nice to have his King and long time friend there by his side.

Tatara maybe got ten minutes of sleep next to his King before the door to his room opened up and the Homra gang came filing in. For a brief moment, snuggling close enough to the King to touch the older man's shoulder with the tip of his nose, he wanted to wish them away and enjoy this warm silence. But as soon as the thought occurred to him, it quickly vanished and he forced himself to pull away from his shifting King.

Mikoto sat up on the left side of Tatara's bed and rubs the back of his head, making room for Tatara to turn onto his back and face the rest of Homra. Luckily the bed was at an incline so that he wouldn't have to strain his eyes to look at everyone.

"See?" Chitose says, looking down at Anna who's little hand was wrapped up by his larger one. "I told you he was going be alright." Anna nods slowly, staring at Tatara with large red eyes.

"Tatara," Shohei says, making his way over to the dainty man's side, standing opposite to where the Mikoto was sitting. "How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?"

"Of course he's in pain, Shohei," Bando says, annoyed. The light in the room reflecting off his sunglasses. "He was only shot a few days ago, of course he's going to still be in pain." He realized his mistake as soon as the words left his lips for his face visibly pales. "Oh man, Tatara, I am so sorry! That sounded way less insensitive in my head."

Tatara smiles faintly, shaking his head, ignoring the throbbing pain his gut at the mention of the wound. "It's alright, Bando, I know what you mean. No offense taken."

Shohei smiles sympathetically over at his friend before turning back to Tatara and holding up a plastic Tupperware bowl with a dark blue lid toward the dainty man. "It's soup. I used to have it when I was sick as a kid. It helped me feel better. I know you aren't sick but it will help you start building your strength." He offers, smiling kindly.

Just seeing the bowl in front of him made Tatara's stomach growl in hunger. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until offered food. And it looked like it would be good. He accepts the bowl happily. "Thanks Shohei, that's very kind of you." What was also good was that it was warm to the touch. Not as warm as Mikoto, but the warmth did seep into his fingers from the plastic.

"No problem," Shohei says, beaming. He scoots back and lifts Anna up so that she can sit on the bed next to Tatara. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her signature red marble and holds it up to her eye and focusing on Tatara, her forehead creased slightly in concentration.

"Are you in pain, Tatara?" she asks, voice soft.

Tatara fills his mind with happy, encouraging thoughts, using them to block the young mind reader from delving deeper into his psyche where it was aware of the throbbing in his stomach. It's nothing horrible, but he would still rather Anna know nothing about it. "I'm okay, actually. A lot better now that my princess has come to heal me with her smiles," Tatara says charmingly, smiling down at the young girl.

His words break her look of concentration, making her blush faintly and the very corners of her lips turn upward, lowering the hand holding the marble to her lap. Tatara reaches out and pats her softly on the head before looking around the room at all the Homra members finding places to sit. Kamamoto, Chitose and Bando are sitting on the couch, Shohei is sitting on the other chair on the other side of the couch close to the television, Fujishima is propped up against the shelf right next to Shohei, arms crossed over his chest while Yata is sitting at the end of Tatara's bed, sitting on it all the way with his legs pulled up and crossed Indian style.

Izumo enters about ten seconds later with a few bags, one a bright red one, obviously Anna's gift and the others were overnight bags. He lays those on the floor and walks over to the only other vacant seat.

"Do you want to sit here, Mikoto?" Izumo asks, gesturing to the seat.

Mikoto shakes his head, looking content where he was sitting on the bed next to Tatara's hip. Izumo shrugs and sits himself down in the chair and looking around the room. "Fujishima, do you want to go see if there is another chair out there that the nurses can let us borrow?"

He shakes his head. "I'm fine for now."

"Where's Dewa?" Yata asks, looking around the room for the only other missing Homra member.

"He was right behind me," Izumo says. "He's got the cake." As soon as he said that, Tatara's stomach growled again, making him blush and glance over at a grinning Shohei.

"You wouldn't happen to have brought a spoon with you, would you?"

Shohei nods, pulling out a plastic baggy with a spoon inside giving it to Anna to give to Tatara. "I do," he says, laughing.

"No one minds if I eat this, do they? I'm starved," Tatara asks, glancing around the room. There's a series of "no, go ahead"s and "why would we? You're the one that's hurt" and of course the famous, "No, eat," from Mikoto. Tatara smiles, pulling off the lid and setting it down on the table next to him and sniffing the broth, humming appreciative. "It smells good, Shohei, did you make it?"

Shohei nods. "Yep. It might not be the best soup in the world, but it's still good for you."

"Sorry, I'm late," Dewa says, walking in with a bright red cake. He lays it on the counter. "Hey, Tatara. How do you feel?"

"Good," Tatara says, taking a sip of the warm soup, humming again as the warm liquid slides down his throat, warming him up further. "Delicious, thanks Shohei." The brown haired young man, beams again, pleased.

"Okay Anna," Izumo says, leaning back in his chair. "Ready to open some gifts?"

Anna nods, blushing even more.

"Let's get started!" Yata says, reaching into his pocket. "Me, first!"


End file.
